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Left alone I cry red tears
of anger and sadness.
Each tear, like pieces of a sahtered soul,
leaving me broken and empty inside.
Red is the color of my anger,
and blood, the flavor of my violence.
My hatered spreads forth from the wound on my body like a crimson tide.
The blood drips slowly from my hands, gently falling to form a pool at my feet.
I fall to my knees,
the weight of my saddness to heavy to bare.
I put my head in my hands
and kneel in the pool.
Like some grotesue saint,
deep in prayer.
The rain taps at the window,
like some insistent visitor,
waiting to come in and take away all traces of this indiscretion.
Soon I will open the window,
and let it wash away all that has happened here.I will rise and go, like a mist in the night.
All that will be left is a couple of stains, to signify my passing, But even those will be taken by time, leaving behind nothing where I once was.
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